


you're taking my heart now

by seoseouls (kihoseok)



Series: no one does it better [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, College AU, Gen, M/M, Non Idol AU, abuse recovery, angst angst and more angst, hospital receptionist johnny, patient taeyong, treatment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:06:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kihoseok/pseuds/seoseouls
Summary: "this is not a threat, i promiseit's a warning, baby, i just want you to know"hurt, heal, repeat.(a prequel to keep your eyes on me, but can be read as a stand alone.)





	you're taking my heart now

**Author's Note:**

> so this didn't quite fit the warning system, but there's no graphic violence. there's a brief flashback scene and some flashbacks, but nothing explicitly violent. so if that doesn't fit you, i suggest you don't read. 
> 
> song - demons by joji

Taeyong had met him at school.

It was in is economics class, he was studying to be a business major. He sat next to him and offered Taeyong a smile, and Taeyong smiled and blushed. 

Looking at him now, you wouldn’t think he was the same person.

Then, a mere nine months ago, he’d been the picture of health. His hair had been a vibrant pink and his smile was bright and dazzling. Now, staring back at him in the mirror, was someone he didn’t recognize. His eyes were sunken in, his lips dry and cracked with bloody scabs lining the small lacerations. His cheek was an ugly yellow and purple with the telltale signs of a recovering bruise painting his visage. His hair was a stark white against his skin, bleached because _he_ said pink didn’t suit him. He was skinnier now. He hadn’t been very large in the first place, but he didn’t miss how his old shirts began falling off his shoulders and his old tight jeans became saggy. 

It was like looking at a ghost.

( ~ * ~ ) 

Dongyoung had been the first to catch on to him.

He had pulled Taeyong aside after their shared chemistry class, guiding him into a more isolated part of the hallway.  
“Taeyong, I’m worried.” The words sent a chill down his spine, causing him to grip his hoodie closer to him, subconsciously pulling the sleeves down over the handprints on his forearms. 

“Why?” He asked, feigning innocence in the hopes Dongyoung would drop the subject.

“Taeyong, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Dongyoung said, his words holding no venom but still making Taeyong flinch. “You’ve been retracting lately, we don’t even see you anymore. You’re losing weight, anyone can see. And you always have some new bruise or scrape when you come to class. We’re worried- _I’m_ worried Taeyongie.” He said, his words now soft and pleading.

“It’s nothing,” Taeyong snapped, panic threatening to fight its way to the surface.

“Taeyong, it’s obviously not nothing,” Dongyoung retorted, his voice rising slightly out of frustration. “You’re hurting, anyone can see! Is he doing that to you? You don’t have to stay with him you know,” Dongyoung said, his voice laced with worry and accusation. 

Taeyong visibly bristled, hands gripping the edge of his hoodie tighter. “He doesn’t do anything to me Dongyoung. He loves me okay? You’re pretending you know things when you fucking don’t okay? Maybe you should just leave us the hell alone,” He snapped, regretting his words to his friend the moment they left his mouth but knowing it was too late to take them back. 

Dongyoung was visibly startled, Taeyong never talked that way to anyone, even his enemies. “Taeyong, this isn’t you. I know I don’t know everything but I’m worried and-“

“Well, maybe you should just let it go then Dongyoung! You have no fucking reason to prod into my life like this. I love him and he loves me, it’s none of your goddamn business, and if you can’t handle that maybe you should just fuck the hell off!” Taeyong retorted, ice and flame lacing his words. When he saw the tears rise in Dongyoung’s eyes he knew it wasn’t long before they rose in his own too, so he turned away and stormed across campus, fear and sadness licking up his chest and into his throat.

That was the beginning of Taeyong burning his bridges.

( ~ * ~ )

Taeyong was alone. He only had _him _. He had isolated himself from his friends, never leaving their shared apartment except to go to his classes. At first, it had been he didn’t hang out with his friends because they all cast him accusing glances and worried looks from across the table, dropping subtle hints and reminders that did nothing more than making Taeyong bristle in defensiveness. Then it became that _he_ was worried that Taeyong was cheating, greeting Taeyong home with accusations of horrible things and painful hands in his hair. __

__Taeyong stopped returning his friends’ calls._ _

__Then he dropped out of school._ _

___He_ had insisted, telling Taeyong he couldn’t trust him around other men. He had accused him of sleeping with their professor, of seducing the boy across the room by asking him for a pencil when Taeyong had forgotten his own. _ _

__Taeyong would do anything to keep _him_ happy. _ _

__( ~ * ~ )_ _

__It was a year in that Taeyong finally wanted a change._ _

__If was after _he_ had punched Taeyong so hard in the eye that he had only seen red for an hour as his eye bleed. It was because he had bought the wrong milk at the store, and _he_ had accused Taeyong of leaving just to cheat and never listening to him. _ _

__Taeyong had been terrified he wouldn’t see from the eye again, blood clouding where there should have been pure white and a throbbing behind his nose that never seemed to go away. He had cried to _him_ , asking in vain to be taken to a hospital. _He_ had just laughed and shoved Taeyong away before leaving for work. _ _

__

__That day, Taeyong snuck out to the hospital._ _

__He’d slunk out of the apartment shortly after _he_ had left, looking around wildly to see if _he_ was waiting for him outside. When he saw he was in the clear, he sprinted to the hospital, his lungs burning and legs like jelly when he finally arrived. _ _

__He stood outside the building for a while, shaking as he looked up. _He_ had said he wasn’t allowed to go, but he had anyway. If _He_ found out, Taeyong was sure to be punished. He shivered at the thought, hand moving to his ribs where he still ached from his last _punishment_. But he was there, and _he_ wouldn’t be home for another five hours. It was now or never._ _

__He paced outside the ward, unsure if he could even walk in. He saw two secretaries working, one was a tall, lanky man about Taeyong’s age who had brown hair and a kind smile, but Taeyong didn’t trust it. The next was a rougher looking man, he was shorter than the other one but far more buff and had the beginning of a beard poking out from his chin._ _

__Taeyong opted for the other receptionist._ _

__He had smiled when Taeyong walked to the counter, unflinching as he picked Taeyong’s card up from where he had slid it._ _

__He didn’t ask questions._ _

__Just smiled._ _

__Taeyong could get used to this._ _

__( ~ * ~ )_ _

__Taeyong visited the clinic regularly from there on out, same excuse every time _’I got into a fight,’ ‘Bad neighborhood,’ ‘I fell,’_. He could tell the doctor didn’t believe him, but she never pushed him, which Taeyong was glad for. _ _

__

__He had begun to look forward to his visits to the hospital’s non-emergency ward, not because he had been hurt, but because it was his only human interaction outside of _him_. The receptionist, Youngho, as Taeyong had learned, was a kind man. He didn’t treat Taeyong any different, always asking him about his day, the weather, if he’d seen the latest soccer game (he hadn’t). It was peaceful, being treated like a human. In those brief moments, he was no longer a patient, no longer a punching bag, but just a human._ _

__So it became a routine. Hurt, heal repeat._ _

__Hurt, heal, repeat._ _


End file.
